Not Enough
by Corelli Sonatas
Summary: The same story of an ex-smuggler caught in the wake of a Rebel-Alliance crisis, during which he must protect a princess through invasions and asteroid fields. All while battling his own feelings for her. ESB.
1. Chapter 1

_Not enough._

Pilots gathered around her, attentive and inspired by the passion in her voice. And he, not one of them (and not a general or an admiral or royalty like she was) sat wiping his sweaty brow, fiddling with the mechanics of his ship.

 _A princess and a guy like me...?_

The more instructions she imparted so boldly - the longer she stood there clad in those modest, several layers and a warm jacket-vest - the less confident Han Solo felt about his chances.

"… And may the Force be with you," she concluded, that genuine smile of hers captivating the Corellian who watched from the sidelines. Chewie grunted upon noticing his friend's reverie, to which Han retorted, "If you're gonna point fingers, Chewie, then you'd better have that generator fixed by now." Han gave his copilot an admonishing glare and returned to observe the sector where Rebel pilots were boarding snowspeeders.

From his disadvantaged view he spotted Luke with her. They quickly embraced; this reminded the ex-smuggler of a particularly sour moment (which had followed Luke's release from the bacta tank) that still rung cacophonous in his ears.

Unless Han became a Jedi, he thought, so much as kissing the Princess was out of the question.

...

They were in the frighteningly barren depths of space, not a sound but Threepio's robotic body making occasional noises as the protocol droid worked. _I should probably be working,_ figured Han; and this thought entertained him because he realized that he was the only one being unproductive: but the pilot's seat stared out into the darkness of the cave, compelling him to be enveloped in his thoughts...

She hadn't appeared before him in hours. He knew precisely where she was working on the ship - _hell,_ he thought, _this is the second time she's been on my ship in five years -_ but every inch of his gut convulsed at the idea of visiting her. _Besides, the Princess is too proud. She won't want me getting in the way._

Seconds of being enchanted by the tranquility of their hiding-place in the Outer Rim asteroid field got to Han, and he dozed off quickly. Of course, the Princess had decided to return to the cockpit for a break, where (minutes after the Captain's falling asleep) she discovered him.

Leia's first intuitive impulse was to leave him be. _He would kill me if I woke him up to answer a stupid question,_ she presumed. One of the wires in the room adjacent to the master cabin had been shorted, and the woman had never been tasked with such a technical problem that she'd resolved to go to Han. But now the darkness mocked her while the intimidating, soundless atmosphere of the usually lively cockpit caused her to fear the slumbering pilot.

His mild snoring didn't bother her, but as she contemplated whether it was her business to be there among him, Leia noticed a fresh wound on the Corellian's forehead. _That was sure to have been the result of our escape from the Rebel Base,_ she thought, frowning. For some reason that she could not justify, the laceration continued to interest her; and before Leia could prevent herself from inching toward the soundly-asleep Captain Solo, her fingers were clutching the fabric of her sleeve and she grazed it over the cut. Deftly did her hands work at this – she did not intend to wake him – and soon enough, Leia had blotted the scarlet drops of blood.

It was then that the woman admired his features. Han's lips were relaxed and slightly parted, a pure sign to Leia of his abject exhaustion. Then she began to observe his wan eyelids, his tousled hair…

Everything started to pop out at her, as if his body were mocking her former assertion that she would not touch him before she kissed a Wookiee. _Shut up,_ she shouted internally. _Your mind is playing games; don't fall for its misleading thoughts._

Not five minutes had transpired when Threepio's obnoxious voice permeated the peaceful, cockpit air: "Princess Leia, might I ask if – oh, dear…"

Instantly Han awoke from his sleep; his face shone of the same livid expression that he always wore when the protocol droid piped up. Leia was a statue while Han – not turning around – furiously grumbled, "Just take a break, Goldenrod. If you're looking for the Princess, she's –"

"Threepio, we won't be needing you for a while," Leia chimed in. Blushing profusely as Han slowly found her figure in the passenger seat, she got up so as not to dwell on the Corellian's utter shock and apologized to the droid before powering him off.

"Thanks," huffed the man. He covered his face in his hands and let out a weighty, unpleasant sigh. "Why do we even have the damned droid, when all he's good at doing is driving me insane?"

Rather than responding directly to him, Leia gazed aimlessly at the floor and shook her head, half-grinning. "It's funny what a sudden crisis can do to people."

"What, are you talking about _me?"_ wondered Han insolently, forgetting that his blunt tone was working against his desire to be on better terms with the Princess. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Still standing at the center of the cramped room, Leia challenged him, "Do you _try_ to be considerate? Sometimes I feel like you don't give a damn about those around you –"

"Wait just a moment, Princess," snapped Han, his knuckles turning white as he lifted himself up from the seat. "Remind me of who took you to safety when we were all back on that hellish ice planet?" He had lost control of himself in his fury, which was an emotion for which his self-frustration was half responsible. Unknowingly he rubbed his forehead, whereupon some new blood appeared on his fingertips. "Great. Thanks for telling me my forehead's bleeding!"

Leia's breath caught somewhere inside her lungs. She could utter nothing to retort: it was as if her entire hope at achieving some steady ground with this man had been crushed by his rugged, heartless interjection that still deafened her mind. _What was I thinking while he was sleeping? He's no different from the rest of the men in this galaxy –_

Han pushed his way past her without warning. She could hear him mumbling on his way through the _Falcon,_ his boots rendering tense vibrations across the floorboards.

"Damn," Leia cursed under her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

_Not enough._

Time had slapped him in the face. All at one fleeting moment she was in his arms, first him kissing her and finally her giving him a taste of her own ardent initiation. He had begun the moment and she had continued it; but to Han's bitter frustration, Threepio had ended it.

"Stupid droid," he muttered quietly. Still, Han was in that very same room, berating himself for not having delved deeper into that intimate interval. She had _accepted_ his touch, and it hadn't ceased to amaze the Corellian. His mind zoned out while scanning the stubborn lever that Leia had been unable to fix. _Could she really be into me, or did I catch her at a weak moment?_

Several hours later – when Han had given up for the night (his body thought it was nighttime) and decided to retire to the master cabin for some shuteye – Leia followed him quietly down the hall. Every step she took worried her; the _Falcon's_ ghastly silence amid the pitched-black cave it had entered could not make her feel more frightened. The sound of her own breathing bothered her, which was why the Princess had chosen to locate the other living human in the ship for company.

 _Why?_

She asked herself this simple question tens of times before reaching the automatic door to the Captain's bedroom. It was just closing when she arrived, and this caused her heart to skip a beat. Why was she so eager to welcome another opportunity for them to argue? Had it not been clear to her in the past day that they naturally quarreled with one another? As Leia's thoughts began to demolish her bravery, she turned and walked away from the now-closed door, chastising herself for allowing that _kiss_ to determine her next move. _I hate this game we're playing,_ she realized.

…

Han thrust the bedcovers away from his body. It was freezing inside the ship, of course, but Han didn't care. He'd lost all common sense.

 _I'm not enough for her._

The man shivered like crazy; he hid his hands in the sleeves of his nightclothes, ever still feeling the numbness of his exposed feet. All he could think of was his failure with _her,_ and how foolishly he'd spouted sour speech at her.

Fortunately, however, the ex-smuggler was not the only person to have been transformed by the series of events. Leia's voice called to him through the metal door, and Han marveled at how calm she sounded. "Han… There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" the other shouted from inside, his steel-coated words hammering into Leia's startled heart. _I altered my route down the hallway, and for this,_ she admonished herself.

"Can you just open the door?" the woman pressed.

Han couldn't think; inviting the General-Princess into _his_ room on _his_ ship seemed incongruous! _What is she thinking?_ he wondered seriously. The prospect of their situation playing out her way caused his heartbeats to quicken.

"Why can't you just tell me?" Han returned. He hated the accidental harshness of his tone. Leia seemed to find it equally repulsive.

"Never mind. I'm leaving."

As she was speaking, Han slid out of bed and tapped the motion sensor on the door-wall. Instantly it howled open, revealing to Leia a particularly unpleasant-looking Corellian. "Wait," he breathed.

For moments, the Princess could not decide whether to roll her eyes or to gape at him. Han asked her again, "What was it you needed to –"

"Oh – I didn't… There was nothing, it was just an excuse…" Chest heaving in embarrassment, Leia began to turn from the audience of her humiliation. Han, however, caught her right arm before she had escaped. "Hold on."

"I was being ridiculous," relayed the woman. By now her cheeks were flushed. Han let her free.

"Leia… I'm sorry." He held her gaze daringly for a moment, seeking some visual hint of understanding and forgiveness in her dark-brown eyes. "Why don't you come in for a minute; we can talk until you feel tired enough to leave."

Although she stared at him stolidly – tentatively – Leia had secretly forgiven him. But she could never admit it to him. It had been his sincerity of expression that had won her over; and so finally she smiled shyly at his hopeful, hazel eyes, and nodded. "Just for a minute or two."

When at last she had graced Han's master cabin with her presence, Han suddenly felt inclined to act casually about the whole ordeal. "Sit," he beckoned to her. Leia obligingly accepted his offer at the foot of the bed. The Corellian sat at a distance from her, refraining from making himself comfortable for the sake of her own comfort.

"So was the silence really disturbing you?" asked Han gently. His half-grin just faintly shone from the left corner of his mouth.

Leia looked at the ground nervously. "It was stupid of me to bother you."

"It's pretty damned disturbing out there," Han confessed, leaning slightly back against the wall. "Ask Chewie. Most nights I make him play sabacc with me, until I'm about passed out." Humor was present in his voice, and for this Leia was thankful. It made her relax a little.

"This ship must be your home."

The man pondered her observation for a small moment. "Yeah. But it's the kind of home that you'd want to leave once in a while, for vacation. My best memories are of the nights in big cities. Coruscant is a favorite of mine," Han added, the mere recollection softening his tone. This alteration amazed Leia; but she kept quiet, in the hope that he would continue.

She was beginning to find him to be more than just "a transport".

"Rothana is an odd place. Massive industrial plants just stand frozen, since it's been years since they were commissioned to build vehicles for the Clone War."

"I've heard of Rothana," Leia practically whispered, briefly entranced by the history she'd forgotten existed. Han went on about various other planets in the Outer Rim, all of it familiar information to her. At one point she spaced out; her eyes crossed while raptly studying the contours of the Corellian's face. _He's older than I'd thought,_ Leia recognized at one point.

After Han had named a few other planets and their respective tales, Leia felt an aching desire to ask him about her home planet. "Had you ever traveled to Alderaan?"

The Captain grew stiff. "No. The first time I came close was when Luke and Ben Kenobi …you know." Fearful that he had wrapped up their conversation, Han exhaled heavily and shifted positions. His accompaniment remained with her eyes fixated on the floor.

Seconds turned into minutes: there they were, motionless, and yet each of their minds was pregnant with conflicting thoughts.

 _She's gonna hate me for bringing that up –_

 _Why did I force him to let me in here?_

 _I'm not a part of her Rebel-Alliance clan anymore; that era is over._

 _I don't understand why I keep hoping that he will change for the better –_

Suddenly the two of them were interrupted by a tremor in the ground; it caused them to cling to whatever was sturdy and in arms' reach. As it turned out, Leia's arms extended to grasp Han's own. There was no time for the man to react to her impulse, and so he instead searched his logic for an explanation to the quake. _Aren't we on an asteroid large enough to tolerate collisions?_

Leia removed herself from Han's embrace as soon as the ground ceased to show any signs of further movement. "I should go and check the scanners," she proposed.

"Let's not worry about it right now," Han replied. "The _Falcon's_ in a safe place. It could have been a normality –"

"For the ground to shake?"

"Well, _I_ don't know! Am I supposed to make this routine, finding resting-places in the middle of asteroid fields?"

The other sighed. _We were beginning to enjoy one another's company,_ thought Leia sadly. "Fine. I'm going to retire for the night. If we're suddenly exploding, don't tell me I didn't warn you." With no more than a glimpse at Han, Leia tiredly stormed off into the hallway. Han tapped his fingers impatiently in his lap.

 _I didn't even get a "good-bye"._

 _Probably because I don't deserve one in the first place._


	3. Chapter 3

_Not enough._

Bespin's early-evening sunset was a waste of romantic energy, or at least it appeared that way to Han. Leia was somewhere behind him in their cell. Moments had transpired since she and the Wookiee had picked the Corellian up from the floor; he'd winced, but Leia had known precisely how to quell the pang of Han's stinging face.

" _You certainly have a way with people."_

But as Han stared at the surroundings of Cloud City through the puny cell-window, he wondered fearfully whether Leia's sentence applied to the both of them. _I've been a jerk,_ he remembered, _and I haven't appreciated her enough. I've made her lower her defenses against her wishes, for my own sake._

Chewie approached him with a grave expression on his face. It killed Han as he turned to perceive the sorrow in his friend's eyes. "This is it, Chewie," he confessed. "Time for me to suffer the consequence."

This vague "consequence" became a double-entendre to Han: objectively, he was indebted to Jabba; subjectively, he had not been worthy of winning so much as a kind word out of Leia. She'd given him one or two…and she'd given him the touch of her lips.

 _Twice,_ recalled the man, daydreaming as his eyes searched the Cloud City landscape that was visible from their disadvantageous view. _One year ago,_ he figured, _the old Han Solo would've laughed at the idea of managing to successfully win Leia over for even a second._

Suddenly it occurred to Han that he had changed: and that Leia had been responsible for his transformation. And the more his brain concentrated on the thought, the shakier his hands became (they were covering his eyes, perhaps instinctually out of shame). The moment the Corellian noticed his anxious hands, he disengaged them from their grasp on his temples and jawbone, berating himself internally for it. _Stop being such a coward. If you'd just left the Rebellion following the victory on Yavin, you wouldn't have stumbled into this mess -_

"We're not going to let them do this to you."

All that he could see of Leia's body in the dark cell was her eyes, visible from the singular stream of light beaming from the window. Han weakly shook his head. "Nothing will change their minds. It was just a matter of time before my debt to Jabba caught up with me."

Soon he made out Leia's entire face staring distraughtly at him; she had moved forward, but had quickly stopped at the edge of the uncomfortable slab (which Han had thought extremely gracious of Lando's facility to provide for their prison-cell seat). The same words escaped from the Princess' mouth once more, this time with little confidence: "We're not going to let them do this."

Han began to register the fact that this was their goodbye – their last episode of arguing together – and for them to be _imprisoned_ … The Corellian hated Lando and Vader for what they'd done to his friends, but above all, he was livid with himself.

Arguing suddenly seemed distasteful to Han, and so he returned to watching the air-speeders whiz past the window. The graceful clouds encompassed the atmosphere with its warm shades of sunset-auburn. "Shame I never got to know this place," he spoke softly. His voice was a mellow bass-timbre, and although Leia hardly felt in the mood to consider her feelings for Han, she found his tone alluring. "It _is_ nice," she confessed in a whisper.

Han pressed the palm of his hand to the glass. "It's beautiful. This is the second time I've landed here in Cloud City… Ironic because I passed it hundreds of times in the _Falcon."_ On an impulse, he turned to look at Leia. "Don't take things like these for granted. Believe me…you'll wish you'd –"

"Don't act as if this is your death day," cut in Leia. "Not when it certainly _isn't."_

"Nothing's changing, sweetheart," Han reminded her. "They may be freezing me alive, but that doesn't mean I'm going to have a life –"

The Princess stood, furious. "Stop." She wouldn't move a muscle of her face – perhaps this was because no part of her could admit that she loved him, even as he talked so negatively about his end – and Han challenged her with a "Stop what? Being _real_ about this? You think they're suddenly just gonna call the whole thing off?"

"Stop talking as if no one _cares_ about you!"

Chewie barked in the affirmative, scaring Han cold for a minute. He'd forgotten that he and Leia were not alone, and it bothered him that even Chewie took her side. "Forget it," he told them both. "I'm not going to argue with you two. Unless you have an idea for getting us out of here –"

"Do you think we'd be here if we didn't give a damn about you?" Leia countered. Her voice sounded weak, and it was clear to Han that she was done fighting.

"Oh, so now you're my friend?" It was full-fledged sarcasm, and his glare had a trajectory that hit the dim light and stopped dead when it reached Leia's face. He could tell she was on the verge of exploding: into tears or into yelling, he could not discern.

Chewie mumbled something sorrowful, breaking the silence that had begun after Han's stolid speech had traveled into Leia's ears. This hardly affected Han, who was frozen in the ugliest staring contest with the Princess. "I think it's time we bid our good-byes," he muttered. Leia closed her eyes briefly, agonizing (although the Corellian did not know this) over how wretchedly she felt about their last moments together. _Who am I fooling?_ she wondered. _There's no way in hell we'll be able to rescue Han._

For only a second longer they retained eye contact. By now the sun was far beyond the scope of the atmosphere that the window could capture, and Han resolved it was time to lie down. Without another word, he located his bed and cried out quietly as the rock-hard slab pushed against his bruised back.

Still, Leia's mind could not erase Han's formerly soothing voice from her mind; he was unlike any other human male she'd ever known, and yet his haughty air always succeeded in driving conceit and rudeness. But the kiss they'd shared while on the _Falcon_ resonated in her memory almost as strongly as did the memories of her childhood, and that frightened her. She had never believed that love could dare to intrigue her in such a form as Captain Han Solo.

 **THE END**

* * *

 ** _Prequel follows in the title_ We Have Changed _._**


End file.
